The Emperor's Will
by Spartan312
Summary: Updated! Chapter 3 added. R & R! Orpheus' story continues.
1. Chapter 1

Had he been any other man, Orpheus would have shivered in the cold night. The surface temperature on Praxis III had dropped to -2 Centigrade, and in turn, his implanted hypothalamus node raised his body temperature a few degrees to compensate.

Orpheus reflected quickly on what had brought him to this Emperor-forsaken world. The memory came rushing back, lucid as a piece of transparent plasteel.

"_Brother-Scout Orpheus."_

"_You sent for me, Brother-Captain Wulfgar?"_

"_Indeed, I did. You have been selected above your brother Scouts for a mission of the utmost importance for the success of this campaign on Praxis III."_

Orpheus did not flinch. He had stared, stock-still, his keen eyes roving over the tapestry that hung on the Temple wall behind Captain Wulfgar, depicting a glorious Ultramarine victory over the vile Tyranid during the Viktonis Infestation so many generations ago.

"_What is my mission, Brother-Captain?"_

"_It is two-fold. Your first objective is to gather information regarding the strength, position, and movement of the Ork filth on the planet's surface." _ Wulfgar hesitated.

"_And my second, Brother-Captain?"_

"_Orpheus, you are among the most skilled Scouts in the Chapter. The Emperor –praise be to His Name- has clearly favored you."_

"_You did not call me here to compliment me, Brother-Captain."_ Orpheus turned his head slightly to look upon Wulfgar's tall form.

"_Too true, Brother-Scout. I only wish to impress upon you the importance of this mission."_

"_I am honored to be chosen, Brother-Captain."_

"_Your second objective is as follows: you are to kill the Orkish Warboss."_

At this, Orpheus stiffened. It was almost a death sentence. That was why Wulfgar had hesitated. No single Marine could infiltrate an Ork camp, kill a Warboss, and hope to escape alive. Still, Orpheus was a Scout Marine. Expendable. His loyalty to the Chapter was unwavering.

"_I will carry out this mission."_

"_You most certainly will, Brother-Scout, and I have faith in your capabilities. You will not dishonor the Chapter, I am sure."_

"_Death first, Brother-Captain."_

"_The Ultramarines have been the Emperor's vanguard since the creation of the Adeptus Astartes. You are His will, made manifest. In His Holy Name, you will not fail."_

"_When do I depart, Brother-Captain?"_

Orpheus had been dropped rather unceremoniously via Thunderhawk three days before. He had made his way silently through thick forest, toward the large Ork camp identified by satellite imaging as the central command center for the xenos' offensive on Praxis.

They had come quickly and brutally, as is their wont, scorching terrain and killing every living thing in sight. The 103rd Praxian Imperial Guard Regiment put up a valiant defense, but the Horde eventually overcame them and swept across the surface of the planet. In a last desperate act of defiance, the Imperial Guard had called upon the only saviors that would answer their call. The Orkish advance was finally halted when the Ultramarines had rained down drop-pods along their front line.

It had been beautiful. Almost as if The God-Emperor himself had come down from on high to smite his foes. The ramps slammed to the ground and the Ultramarines burst forth, weapons blazing, like a sapphire dragon. Their battle armor glinted in the sun streaming through the trees, their bolters spewing forth tongues of flame and the Marines themselves issuing litanies of Glory to the Undying Emperor, and curses of Hate upon the evil that had tainted the planet.

Orpheus had been there some time before, clearing a path with his Brother Scouts for the coming onslaught. He distinctly remembered how he and his squad had ambushed and decimated a group of Ork outrunners. They had never seen him or his squad until it was too late. His bolt-pistol smoking, his chainsword and armor splattered with green blood, Orpheus had raised a cry of praise.

Orpheus smiled.

He shifted the sniper rifle in his hands, dropped to one knee, and touched the comm transmit button on his headset.

"Base, this is Viper One. Reply."

"Viper One, this is Base. Extol your status, Brother," The voice crackled back.

"Currently two thousand meters from enemy perimeter. No problems thus far. I have sighted a large armored formation some three kilometers on the enemy's left flank, and it seems these Orks are biding their time, regrouping, waiting for reinforcements."

"Roger that, Viper One."

"I would also like to report-"

A distinct snap. Orpheus immediately flicked his nightvision goggles down over his eyes. He searched, and saw three of them three hundred meters away, swaggering toward his position.

"Respond, Viper One."

"My apologies, Base. I have sighted three Orks inbound on my position. Permission to engage."

"Negative. You must remain unseen."

The thought of letting the three live did not sit well with the battle-hardened Scout, but he knew what needed to be done.

_You may know mercy this day,_ he thought.

"Roger, Base. Moving out."

He touched the comm again, and crept slowly forward, edging away from the guards who were now snapping at each other like dogs.

_Filth_.

Some hours later, Orpheus had crept his way to a small rise overlooking the camp. He crouched and surveyed. Torchlight illuminated the area, throwing hundreds of ghastly shadows on the walls of their impromptu buildings. Indeed, there must have been several hundred of them, yelling, screeching, biting, infighting, the way only Orks can. They seemed to all be centralizing around a single huge figure, bionic limbs adorning his huge green trunk. He wielded a tremendous axe, and appeared to be issuing commands to the retinue that surrounded him. He paused, and addressed the chaotic group.

"Dem humies ain't neva gonna know wut hit 'em, boyz! We's gonna stomp dem into da ground! We's gonna break dere bones and drink dere blood!"

At this, the crowd erupted with an ungodly din. Orpheus winced despite himself. After several dozen battles fighting the Horde, he never did get used to it. Nevertheless, he had a mission to complete.

He prostrated himself, raised the rifle to his shoulder, opened the caps on the viewfinder, and thumbed on the laser sight. He settled the crosshair right above the Warboss's left eye. "I am the Emperor's will, made manifest," he whispered.

"WAAAAAAAAAGH!"

Orpheus started. The cry had come from behind him. He whirled his head around, and saw a very angry Ork charging, his menacing axe raised, some fifty meters away. At the speed he was moving, he would be on Orpheus in seconds. No time to waste. He turned back to the scope, moved the crosshair slightly to compensate for the raised head of the now-alerted Warboss, and squeezed the trigger. The giant Ork was dead before he hit the ground. Orpheus did not stay to watch. He turned around again to the Ork who was now only several feet away. He lifted himself up, and parried the Ork's downward stroke. He drove the butt of the rifle with all his might into the ribs of the off-balance Ork, who looked somewhat startled when he heard the sickening crunch.

_No time to waste._ He unsheathed his knife and thrust it into the Ork's exposed throat. Blood smacked his face, and the greenskin collapsed in a heap.

Orpheus ran.

He looked down at the anti-personnel radar on his wrist. There were too many to count, and they were chasing him relentlessly. He knew that there would be no capture. He would not surrender, given the chance, but as it were, in their bloodlust the Orks would hack him to pieces and mount his head on a spike. Bullets whizzed past his head. He slung the rifle over his back and unholstered his plasma pistol. Turning, he fired a token shot at the mob behind him, and heard a scream of pain as the white-hot plasma bolt sheared an arm from its shoulder.

He hit the comm button.

"Base, this is Viper One. Mission complete. I am on the move, and I am being pursued. Please advise."  
"Viper One, please retransmit. Your signal is incomplete."

"Base! I am on the move and the entire damned Horde is on my heels! Please advise!"

"Neg- Viper- Sig- incom-"

The Orks must have had a jammer among them, because the line fell silent. Orpheus kept running, back the way he had come, toward the landing zone.

The Orks were gaining ground, but Orpheus ran on, neither stopping to think or shoot at his pursuers, his mind and body of singular vision. His genetically enhanced form allowed him to move at speeds unheard of to an average human, but still the Orks came.

Orpheus suddenly felt the ground fall away from under his feet, and he tumbled headfirst into a ravine. Something sharp, a rock outcrop, most likely, cut bitterly into his cheek. He finally slid to a stop at the bottom. Through his dazed stupor, he saw the unruly mob halt at the edge of the ravine and one of them let out a crazed yell.

"We got this bleedin' humie now, boyz!"

This was the end.

Orpheus knew it, but did not despair. He drew his plasma pistol and knife and got to his feet. He would die fighting, for the Glory of the Undying Emperor, and this knowledge bolstered his courage.

"Come and get me, SCUM!" He bellowed. _I am the Emperor's will, made manifest._

They started down the steep slope. Orpheus shook the haze from his head, and readied himself. The first one reached him, swiping down with his axe. Orpheus quickly stepped to the outside, struck the Ork in the temple with a swift backfist, laid his plasma pistol against the same point, and pulled the trigger. The Ork's head disintegrated, and Orpheus turned to his next foe. The second Ork to reach him received a boot to the stomach, doubling him over. Orpheus drove his knife with all his might into the thick skull, and there it stayed. He blasted a bolt of plasma into the chest of another Ork and looked around.

He tried to back away from the mob, but it did no good. They were on all sides of him. Another leapt, his eyes burning with hatred, and tackled the hapless Scout to the ground. Orpheus could see the rest of them, now almost on top of him. He grabbed the Ork's skull with both hands and twisted. He could hear the spine of the Ork snap savagely as he threw the lifeless corpse aside and tried to stand.

It was too late. An axe-blade found its way to Orpheus, cutting through the torso of his power armor and making a cruel gash into his chest. Orpheus could feel the blood running out of him. Incensed, Orpheus crushed the face of a nearby Ork with an open hand and tried once again to stand. Another cut, then another, and yet still another drove him back to the ground. Orpheus was tiring. He would not survive much longer, and he knew it. Still, his faith in the Emperor did not waver.

_He will provide… as long as I have faith…I am the Emperor's will, made manifest…_

He thought he heard a familiar noise…

and blacked out.

"_Brother Orpheus… heed my voice."_

"_It's no use, Brother Ragnar. He is dead. Retrieve his gene-seed and return to the dropship."_

"_Yes, Brother-Captain."_

Orpheus opened his eyes. He could vaguely see the bone-white armor of Apothecary Ragnar, bending over him.

He gasped.

"Brother-Captain Wulfgar! He lives!"

"By the Emperor. I don't believe it. Very well, Ragnar. Mend him as best you can, then get him to the dropship. We must leave before the Orks mount a counterattack."

Orpheus felt the instruments closing his wounds, and instinctively knew his own body would repair them in time. He felt the Apothecary pick him up, and Orpheus looked around hazily. The bodies of the Ork mob that had chased him were strewn along the floor of the ravine, ambushed by his Brother Marines, mere seconds after Orpheus had lost consciousness. Holes riddled the bodies and bolter casings littered the ground. Others had been cut to pieces by a blood-spattered chainsword wielded by Brother-Sergeant Ajax, who was speaking now. Orpheus strained to listen.

"We thought we had lost your signal completely, Brother. We knew something was wrong. But you know as long as a Space Marine draws breath, there is always hope. Brother-Captain Wulfgar mobilized immediately. He told us that no hero would be left to die if he could help it." He clapped a gauntlet to Orpheus's shoulder. "You really gave them hell, Brother. You are truly an asset to the Chapter."

A very tired Orpheus smiled weakly.

_I am the Emperor's will._


	2. Chapter 2

Ajax ratcheted the slide on his bolter and leveled it toward the oncoming horde.

"For the Primogenitor and the Undying Emperor! Bleed them, Marines!"

Ajax's squad erupted in kind, spraying death in all directions.

"Stand fast, Brother," crackled the voice in Ajax's vox unit. "Reinforcements are en route."

The first of the cultists reached Ajax's position, but he was ready for them, his chainsword spinning hungrily for the flesh of the traitors. He expended the last of his rounds into the faces and torsos of the three closest enemies, then dropped his bolter unceremoniously. Shifting his chainsword into his right hand, he shouted to his squad.

"Show these filthy heretics the true meaning of destruction, my brothers!" With this, he flung himself into the nearest knot of deformed marionettes.

The Imperial Guardsmen on the roof of an apartment building behind the Space Marines' hastily constructed barricade saw only a shimmering blue blur as it cut an ungodly swathe of death through the cultists' front line. The nine Marines behind him also charged forward, weapons ablaze in support of their noble sergeant. The cultists were momentarily taken aback and paused, especially when the tall Marine ran his sword through the gut of one of their number, twisted the blade, and pulled the whirring death-machine up and out. The Chaos-puppet fell apart in two pieces, and he turned to find his next victim.

The cultists, now truly afraid, began to fight more frantically and desperately, all the while being pushed methodically back by the disciplined and accurate fire from the furious Ultramarines. They finally broke and ran, stampeding down a street, stomping their wounded into the rockcrete, and finally disappeared behind a corner.

"That's enough! Let them run. Return to our defensive positions and await reinforcements," called Ajax. His squad said nothing; they simply nodded their acknowledgement of the command, and paced back toward the barricade in front of the plaza and turned their backs only to clamber over the waist-high wall.

"By the Throne," breathed Lieutenant Wallis. On the rooftop, the lieutenant and his squad of guardsmen had watched silently as the carnage had unfolded. The melee now over, Wallis looked over his weary troopers. One of them, poor Trooper Ginnis, had vomited into his helmet, and smiled sheepishly at his lieutenant.

"Get yourself cleaned up, soldier," said Wallis. Trooper Ginnis was no more than seventeen years, and Lieutenant Wallis pitied him. Thinking back, he himself could remember his first battle on Praxis III more than twenty years ago, when an ork raiding party had launched a surprise attack on the city of Priam. He had been no older than Ginnis, but he stood fast in the face of impending death. He had saved his planet. He had done his duty. He shook the memory from his head and climbed down the stairs leading from the roof to the street.

Ajax could see the haggard lieutenant striding toward him out of his peripheral vision. The lieutenant extended his hand. "Lieutenant Mikael Wallis, of His Emperor's 103rd Praxian Guard Regiment, at your service." Ajax took it.

"A pleasure. I am Brother-Sergeant Ajax Dracov of the Ultramarines 4th Company. What can I do for you, Lieutenant Wallis?"

"My men stand ready to support you, Sergeant. We will fight with you against these traitorous bastards."

"No, lieutenant. My squad has things well in hand here." It was a lie, but Lieutenant Wallis didn't need to know. Ajax smiled half-heartedly. "However, we are in need of someone to guard the entrance to the catacombs to the south."

"Sergeant?"

"It is important these cultists do not enter the sacred crypts. There are a number of artifacts down there that can be used against the Imperium if these twisted fiends ever get their hands on them," he replied. "Do you know the cathedral I mean?"

"I do. Very well." Wallis sighed despite himself. He sauntered away from the towering Marine and climbed the several flights of stairs to the rooftop.

"Do we get to kill culters, Lieutenant?" asked Trooper Simms.

"Not yet. But stay sharp. We'll have our time to whip them soon enough. Mount up, boys," yelled Wallis. "Let's move out!" His squad jumped and double-timed it down the stairs. Wallis noted that the color in Ginnis's face had returned, and he kept pace with his comrades. The troopers assembled in the street, and Wallis drew his power-sword.

"Fall in! We move south!"

Ajax looked over his squad of Ultramarines. They were still ready for battle, even if they had been fighting for two days straight.

It had been the largest cultist uprising the planet had ever seen. The cultists took advantage of the Ork invasion to finally move against the Imperial government. The 103rd Praxian Guard unit, already stretched thin from fighting the xenos, was completely overwhelmed when the cultists had started attacking the cities from inside. Elements of the Ultramarines who had come to assist were mobilized immediately to destroy this new threat. Ajax's squad had been one of them.

"Orpheus! Proximo! On me!" The two Marines he had summoned fell in immediately. Orpheus looked especially proud in his ancient blue armor. He had been promoted to Initiate not two days before. "I need to know what those damned cultists are doing. Recon the streets west of here, and report back to me." They nodded, vaulted over the barricade, and quickly moved down the street, their bolters at the ready. They stopped at a corner, peered cautiously around it, and disappeared. Ajax spoke into his vox unit.

"Captain Wulfgar. This is Ajax."

"Go ahead, Sergeant."

"My men are scouting the streets to the west of the plaza. I have sent a squad of Guardsmen to the catacombs south of here to take up defensive positions. What is the status on reinforcements?"

"They are still on their way, Brother-Sergeant. Have faith."  
"Confirmed. We stand ready to engage."

"Affirmative. The Emperor's Grace protect you, Sergeant."

"And you, Captain."

Gunshots.

His two Marines scrambled back around the corner, firing their bolters, then turned and sprinted toward Ajax.

"What news?" he said.

"They are on their way. Hundreds, perhaps a full thousand of them," said Orpheus.

Ajax loaded another magazine into his bolter, chambered a round with a satisfying clack, and held a fist aloft.

"Looks like this filth didn't get enough the first time! Defensive protocol delta! Move!" His Marines arrayed themselves as one, ready for the onslaught once again.

Wallis heard the sputtering of distant gunfire. His squad moved quickly, their boots stomping a rough staccato on the rockcrete as they made their way to the cathedral. The crypts laid within.

The guardsmen turned a corner and finally took in the resplendent glory of the cathedral. Its columns, pillars, buttresses and walls were awash with the amber afternoon light. It had an unearthly glow about it, but it put the soldiers at ease. Here, they thought, was a sanctuary from the maelstrom around them. Wallis raised a clenched fist and dropped to one knee. His squad did the same and waited. The lieutenant extended a finger and made a slow circle in the air, then pointed forward. The guardsmen knew what to do. Years of drilling and discipline made it second nature. They formed two columns and spread out into the small plaza, their lasguns poised. They moved slowly, each trooper covering a field of fire, until they came to the entrance of the cathedral.

"Cover me." Wallis moved to the stone door, unholstered his hellpistol, and pushed.

The cathedral was eerily empty, and Wallis's footsteps echoed in the great hall. He surveyed the scene and walked steadily forward. Ginnis trotted to the side of his lieutenant. "Looks like the coast is clear, sir."

As Wallis turned to nod his agreement, Ginnis's chest exploded, smacking Wallis's face with blood. The young soldier's eyes went wide. "S- sir…" he rasped. With that, he slumped to the ground, never to rise again. Wallis looked on in horror, then turned rapidly to see where the shot had come from.

He didn't have to look hard.

The cultists leapt out of the shadows and bore down on Wallis and his shocked guardsmen. Some brandished crude blades which shone dully in the low light. Others carried lasguns taken from fallen Guardsmen, and some were unarmed, ready nonetheless to claw the troopers apart as sacrifices to their dark gods.

"AMBUSH! Fall back to the entrance! Run, damn you! RUN!"

They scrambled backwards, some stopping to fire into the mob, while others simply turned and sprinted toward the door. They burst through and Wallis hastened to shut it behind them. He wasn't fast enough. The cultists pushed against the door and threw it open again, pushing Wallis several steps back. One of them sliced into Wallis's shoulder with a broken piece of metal that the heretic had fashioned into a simple blade. Wallis gasped with pain and stumbled backwards down the steps. The mob clambered after him, ready to rend him asunder. As they closed in around him, his thoughts turned to his first battle. He pulled himself up, drew his power-sword, and leveled his pistol at the mutated forms rushing toward him.

"May the Emperor have mercy on your souls."

"Damn these cultists! Where in the name of the Emperor do they keep coming from?!" Yelled Orpheus to no one in particular.

"Cut the chatter, Marine, and kill these abominations!" Cried Ajax. Orpheus didn't have to be told twice. He immediately redoubled his efforts, firing his smoking boltgun point-blank into the massive horde. It seemed to do little, for the cultists kept regrouping and pressing forth.

Ajax crushed a malformed skull with his fist and spoke into his vox unit. "I need reinforcements! These cultist bastards are threatening to overrun our position!"

A cold robotic voice crackled back.

"Stand back, Sergeant."

"What?" He looked up. "By the Throne! All units, brace for impact!"

Like a teardrop from the Holy Emperor himself, the drop pod screamed out of the sky, firing its retrothrusters right over the cultist horde, incinerating several on the spot. It finally slammed to the ground in a cloud of dust and smoke. The doors dropped, crushing a small knot of petrified enemies, and out stomped a full squad of Assault Terminators, eight in all. The scene froze. The cultists' eyes grew wide, and for a moment, nothing happened. No one moved. Terminator squad leader Master Sergeant Hendricks broke the silence with but two calm words: "Kill them." The slaughter began. The cold metallic eyes in Terminator helmets gleamed as they reflected the gunfire spewing mercilessly into the crowd. Two were equipped with power gloves, which they used to great effect, picking up and crushing any cultist foolish enough to be within their grasp. The cultists had not prepared for the Emperor's Finest, as they had nothing with which to penetrate the thick hulking armor of the Terminators. The scene quickly became one of chaos, as viscera and gore were splattered all over the walls of nearby buildings. A dreadful cry of victory came from Ajax's marines, who deftly leapt over their barricade and joined their larger brothers in massacring the Chaos mob.

The mob, routed and confused, ran for its collective life. The marines pursued this time, making sure each one was stone dead before returning to the barricade. The Terminator squad leader, Sergeant Hendricks, walked to Ajax. "Looks like you needed a hand, Brother-Sergeant." Ajax smiled slightly and thumped Hendricks on his massive shoulder. "Thank you, Brother."

They were everywhere, surrounding the hapless Lieutenant and his men. Wallis pulled the trigger and loosed a volley of hellpistol rounds into the nearest cultist. The mutant dropped with a sickening crunch. "Run! Fall back!" He cried. He soon realized that he had yelled this to no one. His men were being systematically cut to pieces by the horde. Wallis kept the trigger depressed, spraying death all around him, swinging in all directions with his power sword. Limbs left bodies, and corpses, riddled with holes, fell to the rockcrete, staining it with their vile blood. Wallis ran, and for a moment entertained the thought that this mob was suspiciously well-organized. Almost as if something had known the thought had entered his brain, he heard a distant whisper, like the wind through the trees. "_Yesssss… we are here, human. FEAR."_ A hideous cackle then filled the air, and Wallis looked over his shoulder long enough to see stained red power armor and a horned helm at the door to the cathedral. The figure raised a boltpistol and fired a single shot at the Guardsman. With a crack, the round impacted the wall but an inch from Wallis' head, peppering his face with rockcrete shards. He instinctively ducked and rolled away. Regaining his feet, he scrambled down the street and around the corner.

He ran. He ran until his brain registered that the pounding of his boots was the only sound that could be heard. Wallis stopped and dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. He looked around. He was in an alleyway that he didn't recognize. He slowly got back up and tried to calm himself. But the vision of his men being slaughtered suddenly flashed across his eyes. Wallis could no longer fight it. He collapsed against a wall and wept.

"I sent a detachment of Guardsmen to guard the catacombs. They should still be there." Ajax gestured to a nondescript point on the map that laid on the table that separated him from Captain Wulfgar, who had himself arrived shortly after the Terminators in a Thunderhawk. Wulfgar nodded.

"How many were there?" he asked.

"Sixteen. They were in good spirits when they departed."

"Sixteen." Wulfgar repeated. "I hope sixteen guardsmen can guard the Holy Relics hidden in those catacombs. I sense the taint of Chaos on this planet, Sergeant, and if those relics fall into their hands… the consequences would be dire indeed."

Ajax frowned. He suspected that this cultist uprising was something more. A new thought entered his head.

"Sir? What if this uprising is just a diversion? What if the Relics were the target all along?"

"Hmm. Yes, indeed, that makes a damn sight more sense than just a coup against the Praxian government." He nodded and gestured to Ajax. "Take your marines and reinforce those Guardsmen."

"Yes, Brother Captain."

"The Emperor's Grace protect you."

"And you, Brother-Captain."

"Fall in, Marines. We are moving to reinforce the Guardsmen at the cathedral." His nine marines nodded once, almost in unison, and arrayed themselves behind their Sergeant. "Sweep protocol beta. Eyes sharp." They marched. The marines met no resistance during the first five kilometers. Then a small blip registered on Ajax's anti-personnel sensor. The dot moved closer, the digital readout marking its distance. Slowly, the dot moved ever nearer. Fifteen meters, ten meters, seven… Ajax gave hand signals to his men to form a defensive position. Five meters. Four. Three. Two. Ajax raised his weapon. His men did the same. A shadowy figure emerged from an alleyway, and collapsed. Ajax nodded to his men and moved cautiously forward, his boltpistol trained on the head of the figure. Drawing closer, he noticed the short gray hair and the lieutenant pips that were stained with blood. He turned the body over. Wallis' blue eyes stared back at him, dull and glazed. His face was splattered with blood, both his enemy's and his own. "Wallis?"

Wallis seemed to register that there was a voice speaking to him.

"Dead. All of them. Dead. We were ambushed. My men… all dead." He gasped, as though something had cut him. "Chaos! Chaos marine… he was horrible. Those horns, that laugh… and… oh, Hell…" He paused again, then began to cry once more, with racking sobs that doubled him up. "He was in my mind," he said between rasping heaves. "He got inside me somehow… oh, Emperor protect me…"

"You did all you could. You did your duty, Lieutenant. No one will think you a coward. You are the Emperor's will, Lieutenant."

"Yes... my duty. I did my duty…"

Ajax left Wallis on the cold ground, a pitiful shadow of the proud officer that had just that morning led brave young men into battle. The sergeant spoke.

"Let's move. We have much ground to cover."


	3. Chapter 3

Ajax rounded the corner warily, his bolter trained ahead of him. His nerve was on a hair trigger. That's not to say he was afraid, mind you. No Space Marine of any merit –and Brother-Sergeant Ajax was- did not truly feel fear. The nine of us swept silently into the plaza behind him. The sun was setting, and the twilight made the scene we looked upon a mite more eerie. Long shadows from the surrounding buildings fell over bloodstains all over the pale rockcrete around us. There was a battle here- no, more like a massacre, from the looks of it.

"Brother-Sergeant." My voice through the helmet was somewhat distorted. I still hadn't gotten used to it.

"Speak, Orpehus."

"Sir, look." Ajax looked over his shoulder at me, saw that I was pointing past him towards the stairs to the cathedral. I drew up next to him and saw his face contort into a grim scowl of disgust. The others turned as well.

A single head, mounted on a pike in front of the doors that were bent and twisted, as though an explosion from within had warped them so. His eyes were still open, his mouth still bore the silent scream of a man who had gone to his death terrified and alone. My mind raced. I closed my eyes and could still see him, standing tall behind his Lieutenant, a little green around the gills from throwing up, as I recall, but nonetheless trying to impress us with his fortitude. I can still recall the name stenciled on the right breastplate of his dark green armor. "GINNIS-270421", it had read. He had died in the service of the almighty Emperor, and His Holiness knows, he might have made a fine Marine. But now we'd never know. Ajax spoke.

"They're here. No doubts. Word Bearers. Come to ransack this world. This spear bears their glyph. Defensive protocol Zeta four. Move." We arranged ourselves in a semi-circle around him, our weapons roving over the ghostly plaza. Ajax knelt and switched on his vox unit. "Brother-Captain Wulfgar. This is Ajax." A pause, then:

"What news, Brother-Sergeant?"

"Sir, we've found evidence of a definite Chaos presence here. Word Bearers, by my estimation. I can be sure they have overrun the Guardsmen sent to guard the cathedral. Ambushed, sir."

If Wulfgar was worried, it did not manifest in his voice.

"What of the relics?"

"We have not entered the cathedral yet, sir. I wished to inform you of this development."

"Thanks to you, Brother. Orders: enter and secure the cathedral. Report in on the status of the relics."

"It shall be done. By His Grace, Brother-Captain."

"Emperor protect you. Out."

And that was that. Wulfgar never was one for long conversations. I smiled in spite of myself.

"You heard 'im. Squad, on me." We rose as one, turned, and followed our Sergeant into the twisted maw.

My night-vision flipped on automatically, turning everything into a noonday green. We advanced, our sensors scanning for any presence beside our own. Nothing stirred. The plaza was just a welcome mat, given the supreme disorder that was the interior of the cathedral, I saw. Pews upturned, the Holy Altar at the front crushed and desecrated, the windows shattered. At first, I thought it was glass that crunched under our feet, until I realized that the windows were blown out from inside. I looked down, and had I been a lesser man, I probably would have wretched. Bones. I imagine it was probably unpleasant experience to vomit in one's helmet. Not that I'd know.

Crude runes were scratched into almost any flat surface, stone and wood alike. Brother Malachi reached out to touch one. "Don't," said Ajax. "This place has been perverted. Touch nothing if you can help it. These are stains that won't wash off easily." My vision receptors flickered. I said a quiet prayer to calm my armor's machine spirit.

_Be calm, Spirit, My Protector._

_We walk in the light of The Emperor's Grace._

_I implore you, Aegis of the Adeptus Astartes, _

_Do not dread that which is evil._

_Help me to cleanse the heretic herein._

_You and I are one:_

_The Emperor's Will, made manifest._

The flickering stopped. We came to a stout wooden door. Ajax grasped the latch and pushed.

Nothing.

"Emperor forgive me." The door disintegrated under his boot. Here, there was torchlight, and my night vision clicked off. Still more blood on the walls, but this blood glistened in the iridescent light, as though it had been put there recently. "They're still here. I can smell the fear." Ajax grinned. "Check your weapons, Marines. We may still be able to crush these vermin yet." He was answered by the stiff clack of bolters chambering rounds and the whine of plasma guns as they warmed up. He started down the stairs. We followed.

They were waiting for us. Six Chaos Marines opened up as soon as we burst into the massive relic chamber. Ajax took a round in the chest, the first in the room. He fell, and as shocked as we were, we stepped over his hulking body as it lay motionless on the floor. We moved in, firing, taking what cover we could behind pillars and large reliquaries, the dust and chips of stone scattering over our armor. I found one in my sight picture and squeezed off a burst, his helmet taking the brunt of the salvo. It collapsed and the head within disappeared. The figure crumpled. The bastards had excellent cover, I thought to myself, and wondered how many more casualties we would take rooting them out. Proximo next to me engaged a frag grenade and pitched it. He took a bolter round in the pauldron as soon as the bomb had left his hand. He dropped back behind the fallen column. "Status?" I yelled over the din.

"No blood. Looks like it just bounced off." Then, an angry, yet welcome voice:

"Then fire your weapon! Don't just sit there, or so help me, I'll shoot you myself!" Ajax had appeared behind us, his teeth clenched and eyes burning with rage. There was a crack in the breastplate of his armor, and he was bleeding out of it. I did my best not to notice.

"Yes, sir!" Proximo stood and emptied the rest of his magazine.

I looked on, full of wonder and awe as Ajax spat blood, drew his chainsword, revved it menacingly, and charged our enemies, cursing them as loudly as he could. The remaining Chaos soldiers focused their fire on him, but he moved quickly, and they could not get a clean shot as he rushed their position. The first to be reached was on the receiving end of a boot to the face, and he fell backwards with his own brain matter to cushion the fall. Bolter smoking, Ajax turned on the next. He was too close to shoot, so Ajax chose instead to club him mightily with his weapon. He staggered, and Ajax sunk his chainsword into the heretic's torso, the saw biting nastily and jagged at first, then cleanly and easily as the blades found flesh underneath. The Chaos trooper screamed. His cry was cut off with an odd metallic gurgling. I had tarried too long watching this supreme display of the sergeant's valor. I turned to Proximo.

"Let's go!" He nodded, and we vaulted the barrier and ran towards Ajax, joined quickly by the rest of the squad. The rest of the fight was vicious, and as we looked into their black lifeless eyes, we killed them, one by one.

The dust cleared, and we took stock. Their bodies lay, broken and torn asunder around us. Ajax sat, propped against the altar in the center of the room. Blood still trickled out of the large crack in his armor. He had broken a sweat and was breathing hard.

"Damnation, sir, that was… awesome."

"Shut up, Orpheus."

"Yes, sir."

Proximo and I helped him to his feet. By this time, the nano-machines in his bloodstream had already coagulated around the wound, and the nodes in his brain were directing the marrow in his bones to manufacture more blood to replace that which he had lost. He would live. But he was too weak to go on.

I scanned the altar. No relics, that was sure, and His Holiness knows where they went. Brother Angelo piped up.

"Sir, my scans are showing a tunnel behind that far wall. It would seem the relics must have been smuggled out that way."

"Then follow them. Brother-Corporal Malachi, you are in command. Your orders are to recover those relics at all cost."

"With pleasure, sir."

Ajax addressed the rest of us.

"You all know what's at stake. Those relics are powerful. The Chaos sorcerers can use them to focus their infernal energies, and they will, no doubts about it. You must get them back. Go."

"But what of you, sir? We can't just leave you."

"You can, and you will, Brother Orpheus. I will join you as I am able. Don't think for a moment I've had my fill of battle."

"Not at all, sir."

"Move out, squad!" Malachi barked. "Let's show this scum what we're capable of." We made for the far wall.


End file.
